


Give Me All Your Secrets and Your Hurt (Darling I Won’t Say a Word)

by crystalcompassion



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Claustrophobia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, I wanted to write soft caring doctor Julian but it turned into ANGST :-(, I would Die for julian bashir, Julian is still soft but there is angst, M/M, POV Elim Garak, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:47:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29562819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalcompassion/pseuds/crystalcompassion
Summary: Julian wants to help Garak with the claustrophobia-fuelled panic attacks that he's been having. Garak really, really doesn't want to talk about it.But if you wanna talk then that's okaySay the things you could never sayGet it off your chest and rest assuredDarling I won't say a wordGive me all your secrets and your hurtDarling I won't say a wordTRISHES - Language
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	Give Me All Your Secrets and Your Hurt (Darling I Won’t Say a Word)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BrokenBlade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokenBlade/gifts).



> A rewrite of what could have happened if Julian had been the one to doctor Garak after his claustrophobia-fuelled panic attacks - he reacts in the show, yes, but in such an underwhelming way, it needed to be redone. Also, I like Ezri, but we’re just going to pretend she doesn’t exist for now because I Simply Did Not Know how to fit her in. Loosely based on 7x03, but no real spoilers except the fact that Garak is claustrophobic. 
> 
> CW: There is part of this where Garak has a panic attack, and the reader experiences his thoughts.
> 
> For BrokenBlade, because idk, maybe you want to channel your angst into some slightly angsty but also gentle lovely sweet!Julian hurt/comfort? <3

Garak was sitting in the infirmary. The room was empty now — Julian had gone off to fetch something he’d said would be useful, so Garak had a moment to himself to process. He’d had a panic attack again, this time in his shop, a place where he definitely should _not_ have been claustrophobic — he’d found his claustrophobia worsening over the last couple of days, for a reason he couldn’t quite place. It worried him. They were on a station with no fresh air to breathe, he could hardly go to Bajor to visit, and he most definitely would not be welcome on Cardassia, so he had agreed rather unwillingly to humour Julian’s attempt to provide him with coping strategies - _‘I’m no psychologist,’_ Julian had said, _‘But I’ve researched some techniques that can help.’_

The entire situation was, frankly, deeply disconcerting to Garak. He was supposed to have a disciplined, logical, organised Cardassian mind, with no time for psychological issues. He wasn’t supposed to be sitting here on a biobed waiting fo _r Julian’s experimental psychological treatment._

**•** ****

Garak took a deep breath to clear his mind as Julian stepped back through the door, holding what looked to be a timepiece in his hand - silver face, leather strap, thirteen numbers labelled in black.

‘I’m really not sure about the colour,’ Garak said, eyeing the timepiece suspiciously as Julian fastened it to his wrist.

‘It’s just to give you an idea of something to focus on,’ Julian said.‘Really, you could use anything - I know it’s a bit archaic, but I thought a watch would be the most useful. I replicated an analogue one so you can look at the hands ticking.’ Garak peered at the hands. They were, indeed, ticking.

‘I want you to look at the hands of the watch, and try to synchronise it with your breath,’ Julian said. ‘There’s an old Earth technique called the four-fold breath, people used to use it for meditation — you inhale for four counts, hold your breath for the next four, exhale for four, and then hold again for another four.’ Julian started to demonstrate, signalling Garak to count the breaths with the watch.

Internally, Garak scoffed. First the timepiece, now breathing, of course the solution was _breathing._ As if it wasn’t something he’d thought of himself, something he’d _already tried to do._ He loved Julian, but he needed real, concrete solutions. He didn’t need to be in the infirmary practicing an outdated Earth meditation technique, of all things.

‘Let’s try it together,’ Julian said, evidently undeterred. Garak complied, to humour Julian more than anything, obediently extending an arm to look at the hands of the watch as they ticked the seconds away, matching the movement of the hands with the movement of his breath. _One, two, three, four_

‘Try to hold still,’ Julian coaxed, walking to the back of the biobed to tell Garak to straighten his spine, a gentle touch to his lower back. Reaching out and holding Garak gently from behind, he moved his arms so that one palm was on Garak’s stomach, and the other on the centre of his chest. ‘You should be able to feel the breath in both places — the lungs and the diaphragm,’ Julian said softly.

‘Tell me doctor,’ Garak asked, breaking his eyes away from the watch hands to turn around and look at Julian. ‘Do you use your hands like this with _all_ your patients?’

Julian frowned as he removed his hands, coming to stand again in front of Garak. ‘Garak, this is serious,’ he sighed, picking up his tricorder and absently tapping it against the palm of his hand. ‘I know it’s not the ideal solution, but I want to do everything I possibly can to help you.’

‘Oh you’re being very helpful,’ Garak smiled, thinking of the best possible solution to remove himself from the infirmary with as little fuss as possible. ‘Honestly, I feel better already, I think I feel good enough to go,' he said.

Hold on, hold on,’ Julian protested, pushing Garak gently back down onto the biobed. ‘I was just wondering,’ he finally said, a hint of hesitance in his voice, ‘Maybe, you could benefit from talking about this a little?’

‘Talking about what, exactly, my dear?’ Garak queried, eyes open in his best, Obsidian Order-trained, imitation of innocent wonder. He knew exactly what Julian meant. He just doubted that the doctor would have the audacity to push him further.

‘You know,’ Julian continued, as he continued to fiddle with the tricorder. ‘With phobias, there’s often a root cause - something the fear stems from, it could be anything, but probably something traumatic.’ He held his palms up in front of him in surrender, as if preempting Garak’s response. ‘I know, _I know_ , I’m not a therapist either, but I thought you could be comfortable talking with me, if there was something that happened in your childhood that could have caused this. I thought we could work on it together.’

‘I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,’ Garak said. His voice continued to be calm and even, but inside, he was beginning to become very unsettled.

‘Were you maybe confined in a small space as a child? I don't know, trapped under a sink, or something?’ Julian probed. ‘If there’s something that could jog your memory, I’m sure we could —‘

‘It’s not something that I want to talk about,’ Garak said, cutting Julian off with a sense of finality. ‘Now, _please_ , doctor, I really have some trousers that I would like to return to hemming.’

‘Please.’ Julian pressed, this time using his body to physically block Garak from standing up to leave. His voice was still soft, but growing increasingly persistent. ‘You’re avoiding my questions, so I know there’s something that happened. What is it that’s so bad you don’t want to _talk to me_?’ He said.Julian was obviously beginning to sense Garak’s discomfort, a sensation that made Garak even more uneasy - if only Julian would just know where to stop and _let him go_.

‘Elim.’ Julian said, his hand still firmly on Garak’s shoulder. ‘I’m your partner. I’m here for you. You can talk to me, I just want to help,’ Julian insisted.

It was the use of his first name, and the reference to being his _partner_ , that pushed Garak to the edge. He didn’t quite know what had overcome him as he stood up — _how dare Julian say he wanted to help, if Julian’s idea of help was forcing Garak into a corner, he'd humoured Julian's medical attempts but this, this was taking things one step too far_ — Garak pushed Julian away with a little more force than he’d intended, slamming his own hand into the side of the biobed hard enough to cause the steel tray of instruments that had been perched on the side of the bed to clatter on the floor. Garak heard a faint sound, the sound of glass smashing, probably the display on a tricorder, or the screen of a padd, he didn’t know and he didn’t care —

‘I AM NOT OBLIGED TO RECOUNT EVERY _SINGLE_ DETAIL OF THE _CHILDHOOD TRAUMA_ YOU SEEM SO CONVINCED THAT I HAVE, WITH _YOU_ , _DOCTOR_ , JUST BECAUSE YOU _SHARE MY BED_ ,’ Garak spat. His cheeks were flushed, a deep, deep blue emanating from the sides of his face, slowly beginning to fill the scales at the top of his neck. Tiny red blood vessels were beginning to show in the whites of his eyes.

Garak watched Julian, who had unknowingly taken a step back in shock. He tried to register the emotion he saw in Julian’s eyes - if the doctor was angry, he was showing none of it - if at all, the feeling he was seeing the most of was… _concern_. Garak didn’t understand. Julian should have been _angry_ , he should have been angry enough to leave him alone, _damn_ Julian and his _damn inability to respect boundaries how dare he assume that he had the right to private information how dare he try to psychoanalyse how DARE HE —_

The sound of Garak’s heart began to overwhelm him, a cacophonous mixture of thumping, faster and faster —

_— ‘… hear… … me…?’ —_

Garak suddenly became aware of voices, muffled sounds, voices that began to challenge the already blaring voice in his head. They faded in and out of his consciousness, trailing — he began to become conscious of the room spinning, had it always looked like that? The station was, after all, spinning ever so slightly on an axis, maybe he was just becoming hyperaware of that, he thought, an increased awareness was normal with frustration, with anger, maybe he just hadn’t noticed the spinning before — he became aware of skin, someone holding him, warm fingers on his shoulder —

_— ‘… stay with me…’ —_

The floor was beginning to merge itself with the bottom of the biobed, the room coming together in a swirling whirlpool as the walls of the infirmary began to close in on Garak, moving faster and faster until he didn’t have space _they were coming in so close —_

_— ‘ELIM,’ — ‘LOOK’ —_

Garak registered his name, heard Julian calling out to him, saw the hands of the watch slowly drift into his frame of vision. The hands ticked, steadily, _one, two, three, four,_ just as they had before.

‘I need you to breathe, Elim,’ — in his mind, he found Julian's voice, urgent, but calm, collected, firm and soft at the same time and he followed, breathing, slowly, _thin black hands, he looked at them as they passed the numbers —_

‘Yes, just like we did before,’ Julian coaxed and Garak heard, he heard Julian’s counting, he felt his soft hand again on his shoulder, he felt Julian's warm, soothing presence beside him as he _BREATHED_ , long and deep and full.

It felt like an eternity had gone by, but Garak watched. He counted. He breathed, and after a long time he began to find a spacious, easeful breath as the walls of the infirmary slowly started to expand back outwards.

**•**

‘I owe you an apology,’ Garak finally said, shaking his head as his breathing finally returned to normal. He moved his gaze away from his wrist as he allowed his eyes to meet Julian’s. The doctor was standing beside him.

‘There’s nothing to apologise for,’ Julian said. His voice was sweet and Garak did not feel a measure of resent.

‘Oh I believe there is,’ Garak continued. ‘There is, frankly, Julian, a lot to apologise for.’

‘I don’t want you to apologise for the pain you feel,’ Julian said. His voice was tender and soft, and Garak saw nothing but compassion in his eyes as his warm hands cupped Garak’s cheek.

‘I love you,’ Julian affirmed. ‘Every part of you, even the parts you want to keep hidden.’ He kissed Garak gently on the cheek. _What, oh what had he done to deserve Julian?_

‘Thank you, my dear,’ Garak said, finally allowing himself to sink into Julian’s touch.

‘And when you’re ready,’ Julian continued, before stopping to correct himself — ‘if you’re _ever_ ready,’ — he clarified — ‘to tell me your secrets, Elim, I promise, _I will keep them for you_.’


End file.
